Gifts Dreams Bring
by JasperK
Summary: Report writing is a good way to record things, but should everything be recorded?


Vash was lying flat on his back on the large quilted bed, which in Meryl's eyes was a vast improvement. Certainly, for the ploy she had in mind. She sat down on the bed beside him and he opened one eye momentarily then closed it again. What? Was he ignoring her? Hah! She would show him. She was privately very relieved, not having him look at her with those soulful eyes of his made this a whole lot easier. Today was the day. She had marked it in her diary and had planned her strategy well. So far it had worked. She had winkled him out of his usual escapades and she and Milly had just finished taping up the scratches and scrapes they had received. All the excitement before the quiet of the afternoon had driven it from her mind. But she had checked the diary after unpacking and had seen the words on the page. She had eaten a bar of chocolate, and for some unfathomable reason, a sugary doughnut to work up enough courage. Now that she was sitting there, it was a whole other story. She took a deep breath, curled around so she could be sure of her reach and kissed him.

He opened both eyes in sleepy surprise. She leaned back to see if he would reject her as she expected, but to her astonishment, he netted his fingers behind her head and pulled her close to kiss her in return. Things became a little pink fog of astonished desire after that. She hadn't realised that simply kissing someone could make her feel so good. Or that it would be that good, or that his lips would be soft. It had never felt like this with other men she had kissed. A sudden realisation overcame her then; she had never desired the others. Oh, she had thought she had loved them, but that was _nothing_ compared to the depth of the need a simple kiss awoke in her. It then became not so simple a kiss. Desire wasn't the word for it, she wanted all he could give.

After a moment they broke apart, panting. She raised her head and he slipped his arms down to rest his hands in the small of her back, holding her to him. He smiled slightly, his gaze clear and almost peaceful, as if she were the whole world to him. How had she never seen it before? He was so handsome?

.

A strident alarm shattered everything. Meryl blinked and looked around. She reached over and slapped the bedside alarm and pushed her way out of the knot of blankets. She was far too warm, and why was it morning already? She smiled as she felt the pleasurable tingle run through her. It had been ages since she had kissed someone so passionately. It had been the first time she had kissed someone she had truly loved. She never realised how much of a difference _that_ made in the enthusiasm and desire of it all. It was then that the object of her affections caught up with her. She sat bolt upright and threw her blankets off. Vash? She had dreamed of passionately kissing Vash? Ugh. Ugh. Ugh! She hopped out of bed and hurried over to the shower. She stood under the water trying to think. It was bewildering. The kiss had been that good. And what had made it better was that she not only wanted it, but he had wanted her to want it. If that made any sense? She scrubbed her hands through her hair furiously lathering up the soap. Why? Why of all people did it have to be Vash the Stampede? She could not be in love with him, though her subconscious not only thought she was, but was presenting scenarios for acting it out. Ugh. This was going to be the worst day ever. She slunk out of the shower and sullenly dried herself off.

.

She sat silently at the breakfast table in dining room downstairs. Milly had polished off her own breakfast and the half Meryl could not finish. She chatted amiably to the serving staff. Meryl looked up in surprise when a large mug of coffee was pushed into the spot on the table where she had been distractedly staring.

"That should help with the morning!" Milly said happily.

She blinked, as she realised she had completely zoned out. Thinking about that stupid dream. Ugh. How was it that the best kiss she had ever had, had to be a dream one with that broom headed idiot? No, she was not zoning out again. What was she supposed to be thinking about? Ah, coffee. She lifted it to her lips. How had her mind figured that his lips were that soft? Ugh! Drink the coffee. Wake up. Concentrate.

Unfortunately, Vash chose that moment to walk into the dining room. Somehow, he was taller, lankier and seemed to take up the whole room with his energy and smile. He sauntered over to the serving line and happily chatted with the woman serving. He left her laughing and Milly waved him over to their table. She was surprised; his stupid red coat had not featured in the dream at all. She was rather partial to that red coat. No! She was _not _thinking about such things while he sat opposite her at the table.

"Do I have something on my face?"

Meryl blinked. Vash was staring at her, a little puzzled.

Milly laughed.

"Oh don't mind Miss Meryl. She's not drunk her coffee yet."

Meryl clutched at her mug as if it were a shield. She had been staring right at him without being aware of it? She could feel her face heating up. Her thoughts felt so loud she was sure he could hear every one of them. She had very nearly said 'your lips' for no sane reason, other than it was the only thing on her mind.

"I've got a report to finish. I'll be down later." She excused herself hurriedly before she could say some damning statement.

The coffee was finished before the report. The report was finished before she was ready to leave the room. But Milly appeared at the door.

"Mister Vash has gone out, we need to hurry!"

Oh no. Usually she loved her duties for Bernadelli, but not today. Why had they assigned _her_ to that idiot. No. Why did that idiot have to be Vash the Stampede. Ah. No. The real thing she was upset with was a stupid dream. Why did she have to dream such a false and ridiculous dream then? Hah. She grabbed her cloak and hurried after Milly. It was when they caught his trail, that she felt a lump catch in her throat. Why did he have to be _him?_ Why did _he_ have to be the one who wandered into her dreams? She nearly walked into Milly who had stopped to wait while a car drove past. She hadn't even seen the road. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Put it out of your mind Meryl, she told herself crossly, this is affecting your ability to think, let alone work. Think about what really irritates you about him. She grinned and imagined him cowering at another lecture. For all the $$ 60 billion on his head, he was like putty in her hands. Stupid man.

.

The day was fairly uneventful, by what Meryl had come to think of as 'Vash standards'. There had been no gunshots, though the robber at the grocery store had sure tried firing his gun. She'd not seen a more surprised expression when he had checked his magazine and then his pockets for his spare clips. He shouted at them and then had run off. Vash had spoiled his smooth pick pocketing by putting his plunder down on the counter while he fished his money out of his pockets.

Bounty hunters had not chased them, though Meryl was sure Vash enjoyed being twisted into pretzel shapes by the local kids. She had overheard Milly innocently conversing with several loafers outside the Saloon. "Oh, yes, he's Vash the Stampede. All those kids will get the bounty, see, they have him pinned." Vash let out a howl and pleaded mercy so dramatically that Meryl cringed. The men watching cringed too, and retreated into the saloon embarrassed for his sake.

The law had not been called in either. In front of the town's café, Vash had tripped over a man's foot on the way to the doughnut store. In scrambling up he mistakenly kicked a purse a few yarz out into the road.

"S-sorry!" He exclaimed and fetched the purse.

"Is this yours?"

The man gaped at him in fury and chagrin. It was pink with lace on it.

"Ooh! That's mine. How did it get there?" A lady called from one of the tables.

"Hey! My purse is missing!" Another woman exclaimed.

"Thief!"

Vash stepped back as one of the gentlemen taking tea, stood up and grabbed the waiter who hurried down the stairs. Vash stuck out his foot as the waiter's accomplice tried to bolt. He slipped away as they argued their innocence despite another two purses being found on them.

.

Meryl followed him, mentally compiling a report in her head. It had nothing to do with how eagerly he could capture her lips. Nothing at all.

"Not that way."

She jumped in fright as a leather clad arm appeared in front of her. She followed the arm up to a grinning face and laughing eyes.

"It's only desert out there. What sort of report do you have to write that takes that much concentration that you can't see your surroundings?"

Meryl looked around. She was standing a few yarz beyond the stones that marked the town boarders. He leaned over and looked at her worriedly.

"What do you write in those reports, anyway? I haven't done anything insurance worthy in days!"

"And make sure it stays that way!" She snapped at him. This close she could stand on her tiptoes and kiss him. He had a naturally melancholy set to his lips, she noticed as she leaned in. Ugh! No. What was she doing? The suns. She had been out in the suns too long. She spun around and stormed back into town.

.

"C'mon Miss Meryl. It will be nice. You've been distracted all day. It will help you relax."

Meryl snatched the latest piece of paper out of the typewriter and instead of crumpling it, tore it to pieces. Aah, that felt better. She ditched the pieces in the bin with the other crumpled sheets.

"Okay." She relented to Milly's pleading.

They walked over to the saloon. Someone was pounding out a tune on the honky-tonk and the town's folk were belting out a popular music hall number that had been recently playing on the satellite. Their rendition made up in enthusiasm what it lacked in tune. She sat beside Milly and sipped at her cider. All she could think of now, was the report she had ripped up. She had tried writing regular reports of the day. Usually that helped her unwind. Not today. Then she had tried something of an experiment. She had tried writing out the dream, but on re-reading it, she had got as far as the word 'kiss' before she was sure the word would burn the page. Ah! Burning was a good idea. She would find all those torn pieces and burn them. There would be _no_ way anyone would ever be able to read it. She smiled and finally relaxed to enjoy the evening.

"Oh man, you are so drunk!" She complained as Milly carried the bulk of Vash's weight and she kept him from trying to fall over.

"Jus, a liddle!" He protested. So drunk he was slurring. At least he had stopped singing.

They got him up to his room and sat him on his bed. Milly fetched him a glass of water. He downed it in three gulps.

"Shanks." He grinned and handed back the glass. Milly had to reach for it.

His face suddenly turned green.

"Ooh, er…"

Meryl stood outside the bathroom door eyeing Milly. It had been quiet for several minutes.

"Let's leave him to it." She said tiredly, then suddenly remembered the paper she wanted to, no _had_ to burn. "Er. Perhaps he's passed out? Could you wait here and see that he's okay?"

"Yes, Miss Meryl." Milly yawned. She knocked on the door. "Mister Vash, you still alive in there?"

An unhappy groan followed her remark.

Meryl lit a fire in the wire dustbin. It neatly ate all the crumpled papers. She set it by the open window to let the strong smell of fire and charred paper drift out. She returned to Vash's room and watched the man emerge from the bathroom. He stared blearily at them as if surprised to find them there.

"Night." He mumbled and shuffled over to his bed and sprawled out onto it fully clad.

"Night!" Milly said sleepily.

Meryl eyed him, but he seemed to be out to the world. She closed the door and wandered back to her room. What a strange man. Why did he risk getting so dastardly drunk if he needed to avoid bounty hunters?

* * *

Vash sat on his bed in the light of two moons. It was like a puzzle, this one. The others had been easy enough to un-crumple and read with ease. Bernadelli reports were sure confusing, or at least the drafts were. Half thought out sentences about him doing what he usually did. Some he could see by the errors why they were discarded, but this one intrigued him. Why had she ripped it to shreds? He had pocketed the bits to reassemble later.

"Vash lay flat on his back…" He read the slowly forming sentences with mounting incredulity. It read like a badly written dime novel. About him! Was _this_ what Meryl did when she said she had _reports_ to write? He chuckled to himself. He had not thought she wrote romances on the sly. Perhaps she did not, and this was her first attempt. She sure had destroyed it carefully enough. He pieced together the last of it and read the final sentence. "…and I awoke from sleep."

I? This was about Meryl? Up until that point she had used the anonymous 'she.' Vash felt a strong blush heat his face. Well, _that_ would explain her odd behaviour that day. And on other days. It would also confirm what he had known for a while. Oh man, she confused him. He liked her; he would have easily ditched them if he did not. Milly was funny and Meryl was, well, cute when she was not being bitchy. What he would give to be more open with both of them, but Knives and his gang would only bring blood and torment, and worse to those he allowed close.

Out of sorts, he slipped out of his bedroom window again, onto the upper balcony that ran the length of the boarding house. He went to sit on the far end and stare out at the skies. Somewhere, his brother walked the world, he would find him. It was only a matter of time, Vash felt it in his bones. He was so deep in contemplation he started when he heard a quiet footfall behind him. He glanced up as Meryl crouched down beside him.

He noticed her eyes make it as far as his lips and stick. Oh man, this was not good. He was sure she could see his guilt at having read that private paper of hers.

"Um. I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"I'sh fine." He grinned, pretending at drunkenness as best he could. That way she would not see the guilt.

"Your bed's inside there."

"Nnh." He smiled. "No-worriess. I sssssleep innsshhide."

"You're so drunk you're slurring." She scolded. "You're not going to remember much in the morning."

W-what? There were times in the past where he had honestly tried to get that drunk but it had never worked. He had only succeeded in getting that sick. She paused and gave him such a sharp look that he felt for a moment that his ruse had been discovered. However, before he could reassure her that he would remember everything and would prove it at breakfast, she touched his face. He fell silent out of shock as she leaned in and kissed him. What was that she had said about him not remembering this? He'd quite likely never be able to forget it. Hang on. If he could ham up the not remembering thing, then perhaps, tonight he could relax his restraint for just a moment. He kissed her back, slower than her frantic pace. Had she any idea of the powerful desire she awoke from long dormant slumber? She calmed down, matching his pace. Then for a moment, he felt as if nothing else in the world existed. He had certainly not expected such glorious oblivion from one kiss. For some reason she tasted of chocolate. With a sudden jolt, he was exceedingly grateful that he'd remembered to brush his teeth after being sick. She drew back and stared at him, her blissful expression tinged with sorrow.

"I never knew the reality would be _better_ than the dream." She whispered. "Thank you." She lightly stroked his face then before he knew it, walked away.

He turned and almost called out to her, then let his hand fall. No. Like all pleasures in his life, this too must pass, quietly and mostly unacknowledged. If Knives and his gang got even a hint of it, he would regret the outcome more than he would enjoy the passion. He turned back to stare dazedly at the night. She was right in her observation; kissing someone he liked that much certainly enhanced the experience.


End file.
